Tugging on Curls
by justariver
Summary: He doesn't believe in love. She doesn't believe in commitment. Can they believe in each other?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi all, this is the first time I have ever shown my writing to anyone. Reviews are welcome, but just having somebody take the time to read it is amazing. Thanks!**

Grantaire burst through the door of the bar and headed for the table he usually shared with his friends. He careened around waitresses and patrons before slamming into the table and snatching Combeferre's drink out of his hand, downing it in one. The group looked at him in surprise. It wasn't unknown for Grantaire to like a drink or eleven but the problem hadn't yet reached the point where he was stealing alcohol from his friends.

"What the hell, Grantaire?" Combeferre shoved his friend away and grabbed for his glass. Grantaire sat heavily in the vacant chair beside Bahorel and leaned his head on the table, squeezing his eyes shut and muttering to himself. Cosette slipped off Marius' lap and came around the table to rub Grantaire's back in concern.

"What's wrong, Sweetie?" She asked in a soothing voice. Grantaire shook his head and shrugged, continuing to mutter incoherently. The others looked at each other in concerned amusement.

"Girl trouble?" Courfeyrac ruffled Grantaire's dark curls.

"Problems at work?" Lesgle nudged him with his elbow.

"Money worries?" Bahorel asked, hoping he wouldn't have to give him a loan.

"Is it that outfit?" This from Prouvaire, who was dressed head to toe in designer labels, sipping a champagne cocktail with a paper umbrella in it. "Because if not, we need to talk." Grantaire lifted his head to scowl at him.

"I just saw something...odd. No, completely unbelievable. I must have been daydreaming. Yes, I expect my alcohol levels are too low." He reached across the table and picked up Marius' drink, bringing it to his lips. He gulped it down and smiled round at the group, who were still looking at him expectantly. His smile waned and his shoulders slumped. "Oh, it's no good! I didn't imagine it. You're never going to believe what I saw! I don't even really believe it, and I was there. He was in a doorway. A doorway! Where anyone can see him. And he doesn't even really like anyone talking about stuff like that, let alone actually doing it!"

"For God's sake, Grantaire!" Marius, usually calmed and collected, made everyone jump as he exploded with pent-up curiosity. "What the hell are you on about?"

"Enjolras!" Grantaire's eyes sparkled with pleasure, as he realised how exciting this piece of news really was. "In a doorway!"

"What was Enjolras doing in the doorway?" Provaire asked, in the way adults do when speaking to a small child.

"Was he peeing?" Courfeyrac asked, incredulously. Everyone looked to Grantaire for an answer. He laughed and shook his head, making his curls bounce.

"That might actually be easier to believe." He paused dramatically. "He was there with a girl." Everyone continued looking blankly at him. "KISSING A GIRL!" Grantaire said, eyebrows raised. There was a moment of silence before the group erupted into gales of hearty laughter.

"Good one Grantaire."

"You really had us going."

"I thought you were being serious, you idiot. Have a drink, you're imagining things."

Grantaire frowned. Had he imagined it? Perhaps it had been someone who looked like Enjolras. No, nobody else had those dirty-blonde curls. He'd spot his best mate's hair a mile off, even with some girl's fingers tangled in it.

"It was him, I tell you. I'm not imagining it. Why would I make that up?"

Cosette went to sit on Marius' knee again. "Who was she then?" She asked, still skeptical.

"I don't know, I only saw her hands. It felt like I was spying on them. I wasn't, I mean they were on the street in broad daylight, but I felt a bit...voyeuristic. It's Enjolras, for goodness sake!"

"How come you only saw her hands?" Prouvaire asked, confused.

"He had his back to me. They were in his hair. Gripping pretty tightly, actually." Grantaire said, with a shudder. He didn't really want to think about what Enjolras was doing to make this mystery girl hold on to him so forcefully. The group knew how uncomfortable Enjolras was around women. The fact that he was comfortable enough to kiss one in public must mean that she was special to him.

"How wonderful!" Cosette exclaimed, clapping her hands and making Marius groan as she bounced up and down excitedly. "He might be in love! I've always thought what a waste it would be if he lived a celibate life." She sighed wistfully, gazing into the distance. "Those eyes. That hair...That body..." She trailed off into her own little world. All the boys stared at her as if she'd grown an extra head. Marius cleared his throat, looking annoyed. Cosette snapped out of her reverie and giggled self-conciously. "I didn't mean...Not that I've ever...He isn't my type." She finished quickly and gave Marius a kiss on the cheek. He wasn't mollified however, and stared at the floor, seething. Cosette looked embarrassed and took quick sips of her wine to distract herself. Courfeyrac caught Joly's eye and they both tried to hold in their laughter. It was no good. Joly snorted so hard into his glass that beer came out of his nose. Everyone around the table joined in the laughter, except Cosette, who turned scarlet, and Marius, who was still fuming.

"Cosette loves Enjolras. Cosette loves Enjolras." Prouvaire sang, playfully nudging Cosette's shoulder.

"Shut up! I do not! I love my Marius." Cosette whined, encircling her boyfriend's head in her arms. Marius put his arms around her and pulled her close, seemingly in better spirits now that his face was pushed into her cleavage.

"Cosette loves Enjolras. Cosette loves Enjolras." The rest of the boys took up the chant and Cosette glared at them, whined at them and hit them lightly on the shoulders, growing more and more frustrated. Eventually she jumped off Marius' lap, planted her hands squarely on the sticky table and shouted loudly; "For God's sake! I am not in love with Enjolras!" The table quietened, all eyes drawn to a point above Cosette's left shoulder.

"Well, that's good to know," a familiar voice said from behind her. Cosette turned quickly, blushing as her eyes met Enjolras' intense blue ones. He glanced around the table at the amused faces of his friends and mumbled something about getting a drink, before striding off to the bar. His friends watched him walk away before huddling over the table to discuss the girl again.

"His lips are very red."

"He seems short of breath."

"His hair is rather unkempt."

"Ask him, Grantaire. You're the one that saw him."

"You ask him Marius, if you're so curious."

"He won't tell us anyway, you know how private he is."

By the time Enjolras sat down, his friends were nudging and kicking each other under the table, each daring another to ask about the mystery girl.

"So, what have you been doing today?" Lesgles asked, as casually as he could. Enjolras glanced at him in surprise. His friends didn't usually ask about his day.

"I went to the library." He said simply.

"Did you meet anyone there?" Joly asked. "Anyone with hands?" Enjolras frowned. He didn't understand why everyone was trying not to laugh. He was obviously missing the joke again.

"I met the new librarian." He said, uncertainly, as Cosette leaned forward, nodding her head encouragingly. "He was nice."

Everyone exploded with laughter, whooping and giggling like children. Courfeyrac laughed so hard he fell off his chair.

"How big were those hands, Grantaire?" Prouvaire asked, wiping his eyes. Grantaire shook his head.

"Definitely a woman." He gasped, as he tried to control his laughter.

"Am I missing something?" Enjolras' expression was a mixture of confusion, anger and boredom. He was used to being the butt of the unexplainable, often unfunny joke.

"Grantaire, tell him what you saw today." Marius said, trying to put an end to the hysteria. He was desperate to know the identity of Enjolras' mystery woman.

Grantaire cleared his throat dramatically and leaned forward. Enjolras leaned across the table also, curious despite himself. "I saw a man," Grantaire began in a slow, deep voice. "In a, shall we say, out of character situation. A man known to us all as serious, stoic, virtually emotionless, unless you count anger of course. Unaware of the opposite sex. Practically made of marble."

Enjolras looked even more confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Have you been reading romantic poetry again?"

"Grantaire saw you snogging the face off a girl this afternoon and we want to know who she is!" Prouvaire announced, banging his fist on the table for effect. All eyes were on Enjolras, whose expression changed from one of bewilderment to embarrassed understanding. He cleared his throat and looked away as a scarlet blush lit his face.

"Well?" Cosette practically screeched in his ear. "Who is she?"

"Nobody important." He shrugged, not meeting any of his friend's eyes. As the silence continued and he realised they wouldn't let him go without an answer he scowled and waved a hand dismissively. "It was just Eponine."


	2. Chapter 2

"What?" Enjolras winced as his friends' shouts of disbelief drew curious looks from the other patrons of the pub.

"Eponine Thenardier?"

"How many other Eponines do you know?"

"Is that Marius's Eponine?"

"She isn't _my_ Eponine."

"Well, you introduced her."

"What were you doing with her?"

"She lived next door when we were students."

"Not you, I meant Enjolras!"

"Isn't she a bit out of your league?"

"How long have you been seeing her?" Courfeyrac asked with a frown.

By now Enjolras was bright red, seething with embarrassed anger and trying to fend off the questions with an irate glare.

Until now, Cosette had remained silent, gazing at Enjolras with narrowed eyes as if trying to see into his mind. She leaned across the table and said in what she hoped was a menacing voice; "Don't hurt her, she's been through a lot."

Enjolras blinked in surprise. "I won't," he said automatically, then shook his head. "This is all a big misunderstanding. I'm not dating Eponine."

"What do you mean?"

Enjolras sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was why he didn't like talking about this stuff with his friends. They were so quick to judge and dissect everything into minute details.

"Cosette, it wasn't a real kiss."

"It looked real from where I was standing." Grantaire said quietly. Enjolras gave him a look of such loathing that Grantaire actually flinched, convinced his friend was going to hit him.

"You'd be good together, though." Cosette said, smiling. "You know, she's so wild, you could tame her, calm her down a bit. And she could get you to, well, loosen up."

The group remained completely still, waiting for Enjolras' response to Cosette's statement. None of them were sure if anybody had ever accused Enjolras of being uptight to his face before, and they were curious as to how he would react. Enjolras stared at her, eyebrows raised and opened his mouth to say something, closed it again and stood up. "Look," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I am not, nor do I intend to date Eponine. She is a friend, that is all. Can we talk about something else, please?" He looked pointedly at each member of the group in turn and sat down again. As he was bringing his drink to his lips, Bahorel said;

"So, you don't fancy Eponine then?"

Enjolras banged his glass down and strode angrily out of the bar, slamming the door as he left. Everyone watched him go, with varying degrees of amusement and concern.

Joly turned to Lesgles and held out his hand. Lesgles scowled and dropped a ten-pound note into it. He shrugged at Combeferre's quizzical gaze; "He bet me ten quid that Enjolras fancied Eponine." 

* * *

As Enjolras headed home, he realised he had overreacted somewhat to his friends' teasing. He was well aware that it was because they had hit a raw nerve. He had been attracted to Eponine since the first time Marius had introduced her to the group.

When he had run into her, quite literally, outside the library earlier that day he had been rather pleased, especially when she fell into step beside him and began chatting about the new gallery that had opened in town. It had always been easy to fill the silence with Eponine. She wasn't like other girls he knew, who only seemed to talk about things he had no interest in, like shoes or celebrities, but Eponine had opinions about art, literature, politics, and could easily hold her own in the face of Enjolras' ego.

They had been walking and talking for just a few minutes and Enjolras was about to ask if she was coming to the bar, when suddenly Eponine stopped dead and her face drained of colour.

"Are you alright?" Enjolras asked, alarmed. He put his hand on her arm to steady her; she looked as if she might pass out. He really hoped it wasn't something 'womany' as he was completely out of his depth in that area. Eponine whispered so quietly that he only just heard her; "Montparnasse."

He looked to where her eyes were locked on a beast of a man at the other end of the street. He had heard about Montparnasse and the unforgivable things he had done to Eponine when she lived with him years before. The guy was a good head shorter than he at least, but even from a block away, Enjolras was intimidated by the pure muscle bulging beneath his shirt. He gripped Eponine's arm tighter, feeling her begin to shake.

"I thought he was in prison?"

"So did I," Eponine replied, taking a step closer to Enjolras as if hoping he would protect her. "I don't want him to see me!"

"He can't come near you though, can he? What about the injunction?"

Eponine scoffed. "Do you really think he cares about a piece of paper? Quick, in here." She pulled Enjolras into the doorway of an empty shop.

"What are you doing?" He asked, as Eponine gripped the back of his jacket and buried her head in it.

"I'm hiding behind you. He doesn't know you, he won't bother you."

"And what exactly am I supposed to be doing lurking about in a doorway by myself?"

"I don't know, waiting for someone? Stop talking! He'll know I'm here!"

"How on earth would he know that? If it appears I'm talking to myself surely he's more likely to assume I've got some sort of mental illness or..." Eponine cut him off suddenly by spinning him round and crashing her lips onto his. She could hear the gruff, deep voice of Montparnasse getting closer as he yakked away on his phone and she could tell Enjolras wasn't going to be quiet without intervention.

Enjolras moaned in protest and tried to push her away, but Eponine put her hands in his hair and held his head firmly to keep herself hidden from view. She felt him pulling away so she tugged sharply on his curls, causing him to open his mouth in pain. Eponine slipped her tongue into his mouth and his body went rigid. He stayed stock still for several seconds, weighing up the situation in his mind. As if coming to a sudden decision, he grabbed Eponine's hips and brought their bodies flush against each other. She let out an involuntary squeak of pleasure at the contact. Heat pooled in his groin and he kissed her harder, surprising her with his skill and passion. As he moved his lips against hers, he awoke feelings in her that she had not felt for a long time, since she first met Montparnasse, in fact.

Montparnasse. Eponine opened her eyes, which she couldn't remember closing, and pushed Enjolras away gently. She chose to ignore the dilation of his pupils and the raggedness of his breathing, as she was sure she mirrored him, and quickly checked the street for her ex. Montparnasse was nowhere in sight and she let out a sigh of relief.

Not trusting herself to look at Enjolras, she straightened her bag on her shoulder and cleared her throat. He ran a hand through his messy hair, the curls she had just been gripping so tightly, and said; "So, that was..."

"Weird, yeah." She finished for him, embarrassed at the way her cheeks flushed. "Thanks for...the diversion. I'll see you later, ok?"

Then she was moving past him, impossibly close to him, and all he would have to do to stop her leaving their doorway was reach out a hand, touch her arm and pull her back. Who knows what might happen then?

But of course he didn't, she would reject him, laugh at him, tell him it hadn't meant anything. Wouldn't she?

By the time he stepped out of the doorway she had crossed the street and was climbing into a taxi, evidently putting as much distance between herself and their kiss as possible. He dithered for a moment, uncharacteristically unsure of himself and what he should do next. He turned towards home, but knowing that he would drive himself crazy thinking about what happened in the doorway, he doubled back and headed for the bar, knowing that his friends would distract him from his thoughts.

So much for that, he thought now, as he trudged home. He decided to lock himself away in his room for the next day or so until his friends forgot all about this Eponine business. He wouldn't forget, though; the memory of the way she felt in his arms, and the taste of her still on his tongue would keep him awake all night.


	3. Chapter 3

Enjolras walked moodily along the street, pulling his jacket more tightly around himself as a chill wind whipped up. He wasn't sure where to go. Courfeyrac had pretty much kicked his housemates out for the evening as his new girlfriend had the night off. Combeferre had gone to his own girlfriend's house so Enjolras had headed to the bar. Once there, however, he discovered it was Single's Night, and while Feuilly and Grantaire seemed to be having a whale of a time, he didn't much fancy having to fend off unwanted female attention all night.

So here he was, alone and with nowhere to go on a Friday night. How sad, he thought, even for me. Maybe I should just listen to everyone and loosen up a little. Have a drink, pull a random girl.

He knew it would be easy. He got more than his fair share of girls offering themselves to him. He only had to go back to the bar, there were plenty of them there. He shook his head. Who was he kidding? He'd done the one-night-stand thing more than once and had always felt terrible the next morning. He was never as attracted to the woman in the sober light of day, and he had no idea what to say to her, so it usually fell to Combeferre to make her coffee and get rid of her on his behalf.

He had decided that sort of relationship wasn't for him. The Eponine Episode, as he referred to it in his mind (not that he had thought about it constantly since it happened or anything) had made him realise that he wanted something more. Perhaps not love exactly, but someone to spend time with. Like Marius and Cosette. They were happy spending practically every spare second together and, if he was being honest with himself, he was jealous.

Thinking of Marius and Cosette, he remembered that Marius had borrowed several books from him weeks ago. No time like the present to get them back. With any luck, Cosette would be out and he and Marius could discuss the case they were both currently assigned to. Enjolras quickened his step and was soon knocking at the door of the little house Marius had bought the year before. Through the glass in the front door he could see a shadowy figure approach, much shorter than Marius. Oh well, so much for Cosette being out.

The person who opened the door was not Cosette, in fact, but Eponine. His pulse quickened and his mouth was suddenly dry. It was the first time they had met since the doorway over a week ago and he thought it would be awkward to talk to her. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when she smiled brightly.

"Hi," she said, moving away from the door to let him in from the cold.

"Hello," he replied, clearing his throat as his voice came out squeakier than usual. "Is Marius home?" He was confused as to why Eponine was answering his friend's front door in her pajamas.

Eponine shook her head. "They've gone to visit Cosette's dad for the weekend. I'm house-sitting. I had to get away from Musichetta and her boyfriend. I don't think they realise how thin the walls in our flat are!"

"Yeah, Courfeyrac kicked me out for the night so he and his girlfriend can...um...spend time together." He raised his eyebrows and Eponine laughed. He swallowed hard at the sound. She looked different, beautiful. Her face was scrubbed of makeup and her hair was loose and damp, letting him know she had just showered. The thought of her showering, massaging shampoo into her hair, came unbidden into his mind. He turned towards the door when he realised he had been staring at her. "I'll let you get back to your evening."

"No!" Eponine grabbed his arm and began dragging him towards the kitchen. "I'm so bored on my own! I thought I'd love the peace and quiet, but actually, I kind of annoy myself. But now that you're here, you can entertain me." She deposited Enjolras on a stool at the counter. He took off his scarf and raised an eybrow.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do to entertain you?" He asked, dreading the answer, but knowing he would probably do whatever she asked anyway. Eponine pursed her lips.

"A few things come to mind," she said, smiling devilishly. "But those can wait. Tell me some juicy gossip!" Her eyes sparkled as she leaned over the counter and he couldn't help noticing the way her hair fell around her shoulders or how incredibly tight her pajama top was across her breasts. He blushed and looked away.

"I'm not really the best person to ask about gossip," he said, desperately racking his brains to think of something worth mentioning as the sparkle in her eyes faded. "But I did see Grantaire with two busty blondes on his lap earlier."

Eponine laughed in delight. "I never thought I would hear the Great Enjolras say 'busty blond'!"

Enjolras smiled too, happy to have made her laugh again. "I'm not quite as uptight as everyone seems to think I am." He said, shrugging off his jacket.

"No, I don't suppose you are," Eponine replied, suddenly serious and narrowing her eyes. "Especially if that kiss was anything to go by." She looked him straight in the eyes and he held her gaze, even as a wild scarlet blush set his face alight. Time slowed as they looked at each other, and Enjolras found it increasingly hard to breathe. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss her, to pick her up and throw her on the table and pleasure her roughly until she begged for mercy. His heart pounded and he was suddenly convinced that Eponine could see into his mind when she licked her lips and leaned forward ever so slightly, making her chest strain even more against the fabric of her top.

Suddenly, Eponine blinked and moved away from the counter, breaking the moment. She busied herself making tea as Enjolras forced himself to think of anything but what she would feel like underneath him. If he had been paying attention, he might have noticed how much her hands were shaking as she poured the water, and how hard she was trying to control her breathing. She picked up the tray and he followed her out of the kitchen.

"So," she said, looking at him mischieviously over her shoulder, as she led the way to the living room. "Tell me more about these busty blondes!"

* * *

"Can I ask you a question?" It was a few hours later, and Enjolras and Eponine had spent an enjoyable evening, talking about everything from movies and music to politics and philosophy. They had been in good spirits, even when debating their differing views on the latest general election, laughing together at terrible reality tv shows and getting comfortably tipsy after raiding Marius' surprisingly well-stocked liquor cabinet.

"Can I ask you a question?" Eponine repeated, looking over the rim of her glass at Enjolras, who was nearly asleep on the sofa with Cosette's kitten on his chest.

"As long as it isn't personal," he mumbled, fighting the drowsiness that always invaded his senses when he drank whiskey.

"How many women have you slept with?"

Enjolras raised his head, eyes open wide and looked at Eponine incredulously. "That's probably the most personal question anyone's ever asked me!"

Eponine smiled wickedly. She enjoyed making him uncomfortable, and besides, she was genuinely curious. "How many?" She asked again, cocking her head to the side.

"That's none of your business and I don't keep count." Enjolras said, really not prepared to have this conversation with her. The kitten yawned and stretched, plucking lightly at his sweater until he tickled the top of its head with his fingertips. He laid his head back on the arm of the sofa and closed his eyes again.

"Of course you do. You're a guy." Eponine stated, apparently not willing to take the hint and drop the subject. "All guys keep count, whether they mean to or not. Women do it too!" She said, holding up her hand to stop the argument she knew Enjolras was about to start. He closed his mouth and looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"How many men have you been with?" He asked her, surprising himself with how important it suddenly was for him to know how many men had been intimate with Eponine. It made him angry to think of anyone touching her, doing to her what he was increasingly longing to do.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Eponine said with a grin. He frowned at her for a few seconds before rolling his eyes.

"Ok," he sighed. "After three."

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three..." There was a moment's pause, then they both spoke at the same time.

"Eight." "Three."

* * *

**Thanks everyone for the reviews, and thank you so much for reading! It really does mean so much to me.**


	4. Chapter 4

Eponine and Enjolras eyed each other skeptically for a minute or so, both surprised by the others' 'magic number'. Eponine nudged Enjolras' leg with her foot when he looked away. "So, how come none of us have ever seen you with any of these women?"

"Why would you? I wasn't exactly dating most of them."

"What do you mean? One night hook-ups?" Eponine's eyes widened and she giggled. "I never thought you'd be one for sleeping around!"

"I'm not really, Combeferre usually has to help me get them to leave!" Enjolras peered into his glass. He wondered what the hell he'd been drinking to make him talk so openly. At this particular moment he felt as if he could tell Eponine anything. That is, until she asked her next question.

"What about love?"

Enjolras frowned. "What about it?"

"Have you ever been in it?"

Enjolras huffed and shifted in his seat. "Please can we talk about something else?"

"Is that a no?"

"No."

"No, you've never been in love, or no, you have?"

"Eponine," he groaned, sending an involuntary shiver through her body when he said her name. Enjolras ran a hand over his face and glared at her. "No, I have never been in love! Does that satisfy you?"

Eponine smirked at making him uncomfortable, then frowned. "Wait, you've slept with eight women but you haven't been in love with any of them?"

"Sex doesn't equal love, you know."

Eponine rolled her eyes. "I know that, but sex is better when you're in love though, right?"

"It's always been pretty good without it for me." Enjolras looked at her, his eyes dark and intense, and Eponine just knew he would make a great lover. She imagined him looking at her just like that as he made love to her right there on Cosette's purple velvet sofa. She felt herself growing warm and her breathing getting quicker as he continued to gaze at her. She was on the verge of leaping into his lap and demanding he take her there and then, when he spoke again. "Have you loved the guys you've slept with?"

She was so preoccupied by her fantasies that she had almost forgotten what they had been talking about, and the question caught her off-guard. She blinked rapidly, opened and closed her mouth a few times and shook her head.

"No, only Montparnasse," she said simply, and Enjolras was surprised to hear her say the name so calmly, when just the other day he had seen the fear in her eyes when she saw the man. "One was a guy I dated for a while last year and the other was...well, you know."

"I know what?"

"Courfeyrac."

"What about him?" Enjolras frowned, confused.

Eponine winced, embarrassed. "He was the other one."

"The other one what...oh!" Enjolras felt as if he'd been punched in the gut as his alcohol-addled brain finally caught up with the conversation.

Eponine saw the horror and disappointment in his eyes as her words registered. His jaw clenched, his body stiffened and she realised in that moment that he really hadn't known about Courfeyrac. She was surprised, she assumed the whole group knew. Courfeyrac usually boasted about his sexual conquests to everyone. She wanted to take it back, to go back to the easy banter of a few minutes ago.

"It was only once," Eponine explained quickly, her voice unnaturally high. "I'd just testified against Montparnasse and Courfeyrac had split up with whatever girl he'd been seeing and...We were so drunk! It was a complete mistake. We didn't even take our clothes off..." She tailed off, realising that she was only making it worse.

Enjolras was furious. He knew she didn't owe him anything, she didn't have to explain something that happened in her past, but he felt betrayed, not only by Eponine, but by Courfeyrac too. He stared at the glass in his hand, squeezing it tighter, imagining that it was Courfeyrac's neck.

Eponine moved to sit beside him on the sofa and gently took the glass from him. He let her put her hand on top of his and relaxed a bit at her touch.

"It didn't mean anything," she whispered, touching his cheek softly with her other hand. She sounded so sincere, so sad, that he turned his head to look at her and saw tears in her eyes. They stared at each other for several seconds before Eponine leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, trying to convey all she wanted to say in one kiss. Enjolras returned the kiss for the briefest of moments before standing suddenly.

"I've got to go," he said, striding to the kitchen to collect his coat. He left without another word, leaving Eponine alone on the sofa, wondering how the evening went so wrong so quickly.

* * *

Enjolras had been on the doorstep of Marius' house for seven and a half minutes, debating whether to press the doorbell or to go home. He hadn't been able to concentrate on anything since the previous night. In order to avoid Courfeyrac, he had spent most of the day in his room, only venturing out to use the bathroom and making a run to the kitchen when he heard his roommate singing loudly in the shower. Combeferre had checked in on him several times, knowing something was bothering him, but being smart enough not to ask any questions.

Enjolras had tried to read, but the words moved around on the page until they spelled EPONINE, and when he tried to take a nap, all he saw when he closed his eyes was her.

So that was why he found himself standing on Pontmercy's porch, freezing his bits off, knowing he only had to press the button and she would open the door. He couldn't be sure if she would be pleased to see him or if she would shut the door in his face. He wouldn't blame her if she did, he knew he had acted irrationally last night. He took a deep breath and raised his hand to the bell again, but before his finger made contact with the button the door opened and Eponine stood there, silhouetted against the light from the hallway.

"Are you ever going to knock, or do you plan to stay on the doorstep all night?"

She turned without waiting for a reply and strode down the hall to the kitchen, leaving Enjolras still unsure as to her mood. He stepped into the house and closed the door behind him, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the bannister as he passed. He leaned against the kitchen doorframe, watching her as she made tea. She had yet to look at him, and he almost couldn't bear the suspense of waiting to see her eyes. She finished stirring the tea and pushed a mug across the counter, indicating he should take a seat. As he sat down on the same stool he had occupied the night before, Eponine finally glanced at him, and her eyes widened in shock as she took in his appearance. His had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was disheveled as if he had been running his hands through it all day. He obviously hadn't shaved, which was very unlike him, as a dark shadow covered his jaw. But most worryingly of all, his right hand was bound tightly in a bright white bandage.

"What the hell happened to you?" She hurried around to his side of the counter and took his bandaged hand gently in both of hers.

"It's nothing. You should see the other guy." He lifted a corner of his mouth in an attempt at humour.

"You got in a fight? With who? Not Courfeyrac?" Eponine frowned, though her insides were tingling. Nobody had ever fought for her before, and she knew Courfeyrac didn't deserve any kind of beating, but she sort of hoped Enjolras had tried to defend her honour. Her hopes were short-lived as he shook his head.

"I punched a wall."

"What? Why?"

Enjolras decided to be honest. "I was so wound up when I left here last night, I had to let it out. Between a wall and one of my best friends, the wall seemed a better option."

Eponine looked down at her hands holding his and ran her finger across the bandage over his bruised knuckles. Enjolras winced and tried to withdraw his hand, but she held it tightly and he watched as she raised it to her lips. His heart hammered in his chest as she kissed his fingers, and when she lifted her head to look at him, he felt as if he would burst with longing. Using his free hand, he tucked her hair behind her ear and gently pulled her face towards his. Enjolras let his lips linger on hers for a moment before pulling back and looking into her eyes.

With that one look he tried to tell her that he didn't care about what had happened in the past or who it had happened with. He tried to tell her that he cared for her, that he wanted her. He tried to tell her that although he didn't believe in the whole 'love' thing, he wouldn't mind if she tried to change his mind.

He didn't know if she understood, but suddenly her lips were on his in a heated kiss and all he could think about was the way their mouths seemed to just fit together. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and she opened her mouth willingly, moaning as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues met and he tangled his good hand in her hair, while she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him closer.

They both knew where this was going; Eponine was already wet and Enjolras was struggling to control himself, he had never wanted anything more than he wanted her right now. She ran her hands under his shirt and over his chest and smiled when he groaned and pushed her against the counter, trapping her with his body.

Enjolras ran his hand down her side, making her shiver, and lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist and grinding into her. She gasped when she felt him against her centre and thrust her hips towards him to relieve some of the tension. She threw her head back as he kissed his way along her jaw and down her neck towards her shoulder. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his breath on her skin, and she couldn't remember the last time anything had felt so good.

They both froze, horrified, when they heard a familiar laugh and the jingle of keys as someone approached the front door. They sprang apart as the door opened and Cosette called, "Eponine?"

"In here!" Eponine replied, thankful that she and Enjolras hadn't got to the point of removing clothes. By the time Cosette and Marius reached the kitchen, Eponine and Enjolras were sitting on opposite sides of the counter, sipping tea and trying desperately to get their breathing under control. Cosette's eyes lit up when she saw the two of them together and she smiled widely.

"We're not interrupting anything, are we?" She asked, slyly.

"No!" Enjolras said, a little too loudly, and Eponine smiled into her cup. "I just came by for those books I lent Marius. I didn't know you were away." He was rather pleased with himself for having thought of a believeable excuse so quickly. Cosette flapped a hand at him as if she were shooing him away.

"Never mind about your books. We've got some great news and we came home early because we just couldn't wait to tell everyone!" She paused dramatically and looked at Marius conspiratorially, even though both Eponine and Enjolras had already guessed what the news might be. Cosette thrust her left hand out in front of her to show off her sparkly new ring. "We're engaged!"

* * *

**Thank you everyone who has read this so far, I'm so grateful!**


	5. Chapter 5

After the round of congratulatory hugs and handshakes was over, Marius drew Enjolras into the living room, leaving Cosette and Eponine in the kitchen to be girly and 'ooh' and 'ahh' about the ring. Marius opened his liquor cabinet to pour them both a drink, and frowned at the amount of alcohol that was missing. 

"Damn it, Eponine!" He shouted towards the kitchen, making Enjolras jump. "That was really expensive scotch!"

"Consider it my payment for housesitting!" Eponine shouted back.

Enjolras wasn't sure if he should tell Marius that he had been the one to drink the whiskey. He knew both Cosette and Pontmercy, who was even more prone to gossip than his fiancee, would read something into the fact that he and Eponine had spent the evening alone together. He didn't know what to make of it himself, actually. He knew that if their friends hadn't come home when they did, he could have had Eponine naked and writhing underneath him right now. He closed his eyes, remembering the way she had responded to his kisses, his touch, and he couldn't help imagining how she would react to him touching her in other, more intimate, places; palming her breasts, moving his hand lower, over her stomach, her hips, lower still, running his hand across her thigh, between her legs, finding her centre and then...

"Two fingers or three?"

"WHAT?" Enjolras jumped off the sofa as if he was on fire and stared at Marius, who stared back with equal confusion. Marius held the whiskey bottle in one hand and a glass in the other.

"I said two fingers or three? The whiskey." He shook the bottle slightly as if to emphasise his question. Enjolras' face glowed red as comprehension dawned. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

"None, thanks," he said, shakily. "I had to take some painkillers earlier. Shouldn't really drink."

"Yeah...What the hell happened to you?" Marius asked, echoing Eponine's words from earlier. "You look like shit." He poured himself a drink and shooed the kitten off his armchair. Enjolras collapsed back onto the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

"I had a fight with a wall." He mumbled, rubbing his injured knuckles absently. "The wall won."

Marius regarded him for a moment and leaned forward to put his drink on the coffee table. He rested his elbows on his knees and looked at his friend seriously.

"Look, Enjolras. We all know how hard you work, and we think it's admirable, but you're running yourself into the ground. Take a break. Get a hobby. Get a girl. Find a better outlet for your emotions than beating up buildings. For God's sake, it's Saturday night and you came all the way across town for a couple of books! Live a little." He patted Enjolras' shoulder in an awkward, fatherly manner and Enjolras might have laughed, if he hadn't been so annoyed by Marius' comments. He swallowed the urge to shout 'I was having a great time tonight until you showed up, thank you very much!'

Marius took Enjolras' silence to mean that he agreed with him and gave himself an imaginary pat on the back. He had always wanted to tell Enjolras to loosen up a bit. He picked up his glass again and watched the liquid move as he swilled the whiskey around. He cleared his throat. !If you don't mind, I need a favour."

Enjolras glanced at his friend, noticing the change in his friend's tone of voice. "What do you need?"

"Do you think you could, you know, go home?" Marius' ears and neck had turned a light shade of pink and he avoided Enjolras' eye. "And take Eponine with you? Me and Cosette haven't...er...been alone...since we got engaged. Staying with her dad doesn't lend itself well to...alone time." 

"Sure," Enjolras said, getting to his feet eagerly. "I'll go and see if she's ready."

* * *

"Eight women?" Cosette screeched, and Eponine shushed her, flapping her hands and looking over her shoulder towards the living room.

"Be quiet, he'll hear you!" She hissed, then grinned malevolently. "It would have been nine if you hadn't come home early!"

Cosette giggled. "Sorry. How far did you get?"

"Not far enough." Eponine grumbled, shifting in her chair. "Not nearly far enough."

Cosette glanced towards the door before whispering; "Is he a good kisser? He's got a great looking mouth."

Eponine threw a dishcloth at her. "Cosette! You've just got engaged! I really don't think you should be fantasising about other men."

"I'm not fantasising. It was an observation. He looks like a good kisser."

"Not just good, he's amazing!" Eponine said, licking her lips. "The way he makes me feel...God, I haven't felt that way since...well, since I first met Montparnasse."

Cosette huffed and pushed herself away from the counter, folding her arms. "Yes, well, the less we say about him, the better. Has he tried to contact you?"

"Nope, not at all." 

"Well, if he does, promise me you'll call the police straightaway?" She waited for Eponine's aquiescent nod before smirking slyly. "Or perhaps you could call Enjolras? You know, for protection." 

Eponine smiled and rolled her eyes. Cosette was way too invested in a relationship between her and Enjolras. Eponine couldn't deny that she was attracted to him, was beginning to care for him as something more than a friend, but a relationship was out of the question right now. She was still getting over all that had happened with Montparnasse, and though her counseling sessions had finished, and her body no longer showed signs of her time with him, she knew the emotional scars would take a lifetime to heal. 

It had already been three years since Marius had rescued her from Montparnasse's apartment in the middle of the night. Beaten, bound and locked in a closet, she had been on the verge of unconsciousness when Marius found her and carried her to the relative safety of the hospital. He had not left her side for two days and managed to persuade her to give statements to the police. He let her stay with him when she was discharged, and helped her through the trauma of telling a courtroom full of strangers the most intimate details of her life with Montparnasse. She had mistaken Marius' kindness for something akin to love and she had been sorely jealous when he had introduced her to Cosette. Her feelings for Marius had eventually resolved themselves into something more 'sibling-y' and Cosette had become her best friend. 

The two women had lapsed into silence; Eponine occupied by thoughts of her past and Cosette dreaming of bridal gowns and centrepieces. Enjolras made both of them jump when he suddenly appeared beside Eponine and asked, "Shall I walk you home?" 

Eponine smiled at him and hopped down from her stool. "Ok, let me just get my bag." She said, brushing past him much closer than she really needed to. Cosette gave him a knowing smirk and followed Eponine to the guest room, where Enjolras just knew they were having a whispered conversation about him. Eponine emerged a few minutes later and they bid goodnight to Cosette and Marius, who was impatient to get his fiancee alone.

* * *

They walked together in silence, hands brushing and shoulders bumping accidentally-on-purpose. Every so often Enjolras would catch Eponine's eye and they would smile at each other and quicken their pace. By the time they reached Eponine's street, they were practically jogging. She unlocked the front door and they made their way upstairs to the flat she shared with Musichetta. Eponine called her roommate's name into the darkened flat and grinned over her shoulder at Enjolras when there was no reply. 

Enjolras followed her into the living room, and as soon as they had both taken off their coats, he spun her round and kissed her full on the mouth. She let out a surprised squeak before melting into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. His hands went to her waist as he moved his lips against hers, willing her to open her mouth. She parted her lips and Enjolras deepened the kiss, groaning with pleasure. 

As their tongues danced, Eponine walked backwards, pulling Enjolras with her, until her back hit the wall. Without breaking the kiss, he moved his hands down over her hips and grabbed her bottom, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She could feel him getting hard, even though several layers of clothing separated them. Highly aroused, she grinned against his mouth and pushed her hips towards his, making him groan again. He slipped his hand under her shirt, and was feeling his way towards her breast when his pocket vibrated, startling both of them.

Enjolras huffed, annoyed at the interruption, and Eponine laughed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and threw it behind him onto the sofa without looking at it. It proceeded to vibrate as he dipped his head, kissing his way along her jaw. Eponine tried to concentrate on the feelings he was stirring inside her, but the buzzing proved too distracting.

"Oh, for God's sake! Answer the damn phone, whoever it is isn't giving up!"

Enjolras growled, frustrated, and dropped her unceremoniously to the floor. He snatched up the phone and snarled into the mouthpiece; "What?"

His expression changed from annoyed to embarrassed to panicked almost immediately and he turned away from her, lowering his voice. "Oh, hello...What? When?...Why didn't you call me earlier?...Of course I'll come...Yeah, ok, I'll see you soon..." Enjolras ended the call and stood looking at the phone in his hand for some time. Eponine cleared her throat and was shocked to see tears in his eyes when he looked at her.

"What's wrong?" She asked, crossing the room and pulling him into her arms. He held on to her tightly, burying his face in her hair.

"My dad." He mumbled. "He had some sort of heart attack on Wednesday, but he was stable, so the hospital let him go home. He didn't even let me know he was sick. It happened again this evening. That was his wife on the phone." He tightened his arms around her shoulders and she heard his voice break. "My dad's dead, Eponine."

* * *

**So, I know it's been, like, two weeks since I updated and I apologise to anyone who has been following the story, but real life got in the way. Hopefully, the updates will come more often from now on.**

**Also, please don't hate me for making the plot more serious so suddenly!**


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